"I did go on Tuesday evening, I admit," continued Ben. "I saw that
Mrs. Hill did not believe it, but it's true. I wish I hadn't lost the
letter inviting me there. You might think I had invented the story."

"But I don't, Ben; and, for the best of all reasons, because I found
the note on the carpet, and have it in my possession now."

"I won't explain myself," said Mrs. Hamilton, with a smile, "but I
intend to treat you coolly for a time, as if you had incurred my
displeasure. You need not feel sensitive, however, but may consider
that I am acting."

The programme was carried out. To the great delight of Mrs. Hill and
Conrad, Mrs. Hamilton scarcely addressed a word to Ben at the supper
table. When she did speak, it was with an abruptness and coldness
quite unusual for the warm-hearted woman. Ben looked depressed, fixed
his eyes on his plate, and took very little part in the conversation.
Mrs. Hill and Conrad, on the other hand, seemed in very good spirits.
They chatted cheerfully, and addressed an occasional word to Ben.
They could afford to be magnanimous, feeling that he had forfeited
their rich cousin's favor.

"Yes, Conrad, it is. Cousin Hamilton is very angry with the boy. She
scarcely spoke a word to him."

"He won't stay long, I'll be bound. Can't you suggest, mother, that
he had better be dismissed at once?"

"No, Conrad; we have done all that is needed. We can trust Cousin
Hamilton to deal with him. She will probably keep him for a short
time, till she can get along without his services."

"It's lucky he lost the letter. Cousin Hamilton will think he never
received any."

So the precious pair conferred together. It was clear that Ben had
two dangerous and unscrupulous enemies in the house.

It was all very well to anticipate revenge upon Ben, and his summary
dismissal, but this did not relieve Conrad from his pecuniary
embarrassments. As a general thing, his weekly allowance was spent by
the middle of the week. Ben had refused to lend money, and there was
no one else he could call upon. Even if our hero was dismissed, there
seemed likely to be no improvement in this respect.

At this juncture, Conrad was, unfortunately, subjected to a temptation
which proved too strong for him.

Mrs. Hamilton was the possessor of an elegant opera glass, which she
had bought some years previous in Paris at a cost of fifty dollars.
Generally, when not in use, she kept it locked up in a bureau drawer.
It so happened, however, that it had been left out on a return from a
matinee, and lay upon her desk, where it attracted the attention of
Conrad.

It was an unlucky moment, for he felt very hard up. He wished to go
to the theater in the evening with a friend, but had no money.

It flashed upon him that he could raise a considerable sum on the
opera glass at Simpson's, a well-known pawnbroker on the Bowery, and
he could, without much loss of time, stop there on his way down to
business.

Scarcely giving himself time to think, he seized the glass and thrust
it into the pocket of his overcoat. Then, putting on his coat, he
hurried from the house.

The ticket was made out, the money paid over, and Conrad left the
establishment.

"Now I am in funds!" he said to himself, "and there is no danger of
detection. If anything is ever found out, it will be Ben who will be
in trouble, not I."

It was not long before Mrs. Hamilton discovered her loss. She valued
the missing opera glass, for reasons which need not be mentioned, far
beyond its intrinsic value, and though she could readily have supplied
its place, so far as money was concerned, she would not have been as
well pleased with any new glass, though precisely similar, as with the
one she had used for years. She remembered that she had not replaced
the glass in the drawer, and, therefore, searched for it wherever she
thought it likely to have been left. But in vain.